MARCH
MARCH 1
Exodus 12:21-51; Luke 15; Job 30; 1 Corinthians 16
IN DRAMATIC MOMENTS IN THE LIFE of Paul he is led by some intervening revelation. What we sometimes overlook is how much of his ministry is a function of planning, instruction, pastoral judgments, even uncertainties—much like our own ministries.
In 1 Corinthians 16, Paul tells the Corinthians about his travel plans (16:59). He does not want to see them immediately, on his way to Macedonia, and make only a passing visit. Rather, he intends to go to Macedonia first, and then “perhaps” he will stay with the Corinthians a while, or even spend the winter (when it was unsafe to travel on the Mediterranean). “I hope to spend some time with you,” Paul writes, “if the Lord permits” (16:7). Before embarking on any part of this trip, however, the apostle intends to stay for a while longer in Ephesus, “because a great door for effective work has opened to me, and there are many who oppose me” (16:9). In other words, he still has some unfinished ministry in that great city. Clearly there is uncertainty in Paul’s plans, but he is trying to lay out the next few months of his service in ways that will be of maximum benefit for the promotion of the Gospel and the good of God’s people.
The next two short paragraphs (16:10-12) suggest that the movements of Timothy and Apollos were not always entirely predictable either, though in both instances Paul provides the Corinthians with information covering certain eventualities.
Moreover, the first paragraph (16:1-4) finds Paul instructing the Corinthians to plan ahead in their giving. The “collection” that Paul mentions is a project to help poor Christians in Judea. He knows that if the Corinthian believers start collecting money only when he shows up, they will give little. Faithful, regular giving, set aside “on the first day of every week” (when Christians met for corporate worship, encouragement, and instruction), would ensure that a considerable sum would be raised. Of course, in those days money could not be electronically transferred; someone would have to transport it personally. Paul wants the Corinthians to choose men they themselves approve, and he will provide them with letters of introduction to the leaders in Jerusalem. He may even go with them. Clearly, these sorts of arrangements would vitiate any hint of financial impropriety on the part of the apostle. In this case, too, there is evidence of careful, godly, wise planning, and encouragement to the Corinthians to engage in the same.
Today there is a form of ethereal “spirituality” that wants to wait for explicit guidance for every decision, that regards a phrase like “if the Lord wills” as a sanctimonious cop-out. That was not Paul’s perspective, and it should not be ours.
MARCH 2
Exodus 13; Luke 16; Job 31; 2 Corinthians 1
ONCE AGAIN WE MAY USEFULLY reflect on both designated readings.
Job 31 is the final chapter of Job’s last response to the three comforters. The closing three chapters of this address (chaps. 29—31) are dominated by two themes. First, Job now bemoans not so much his physical suffering as his loss of face and prestige in the community. He has been a man of dignity and honor; now he is treated with scorn, even by young men from contemptible families (e.g., 30:1). Second, although all along Job has protested that he is suffering innocently, now he discloses the habits of his life that explain why the opening chapter describes him as “blameless and upright,” a man who “feared God and shunned evil” (1:1).
Indeed, one of the reasons why Job had been so honored in the community was that his righteousness and generosity were well known: he rescued the poor and the fatherless, assisted the dying, and helped widows (29:12). So also in the present chapter: almost in desperation because of the charges brought against him, Job lays out the evidence of his innocence. He made a covenant with his eyes “not to look lustfully at a girl” (31:1). He constantly remembered God’s all-seeing eye (31:4), and therefore spoke the truth and dealt honestly in business (31:5-8). He avoided adultery; he dealt equitably with any grievance from his menservants and maidservants, knowing that he himself must one day face God’s justice, and that in any case they are as human as he (31:13-15). Out of the fear of God, he was especially generous with the poor (31:16-23). Despite great wealth, he never trusted it (31:24-28), nor allowed himself to gloat over the misfortunes of others (31:29-30). So the chapter ends with Job maintaining his reputation for integrity, and finding no comfort.
Paul also suffers—not only the loss of possessions, family, and health, but the peculiar pressures of front-line ministry, and, worse, overt persecution (2 Corinthians 1:1-11). Of course, the circumstances are radically different. Paul knows, as Job did not, that he has been called to suffer (e.g., Acts 9:16). Moreover, Paul lives and serves this side of the cross: he self-consciously follows one who suffered unjustly for the sake of others. Perhaps most importantly, Paul knows that the encouragement he has received from “the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort” (1:3) he is able to pass on to others. He knows God “comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God” (1:4). Pity those who have never been comforted; they never give comfort either.
MARCH 3
Exodus 14; Luke 17; Job 32; 2 Corinthians 2
DESPITE HIS INTENTIONS, PAUL did not visit the Corinthians as he had hoped. He may have visited them on his way to Macedonia; he certainly did not do so, as he had expected, after leaving Macedonia (2 Cor. 1:16; see meditation for March 1). Apparently some of the Christians in Corinth held this against him, accusing him of being fickle. Paul replies that he is not the sort of person who says yes when he means no, or the reverse (1:17). The reason he did not go to Corinth, as he intended, was to spare them (1:23). How so?
The answer to that question is found at the beginning of 2 Corinthians 2, which provides dramatic insight into the relations between the apostle and one of the more prominent churches he founded. The reason Paul did not fulfill his intention to visit Corinth is that he became convinced it would be “another painful visit” (2:1). An earlier visit, possibly on his way to Macedonia, had proved disastrous. Either before or after that visit (the sequence is not quite clear) Paul also sent a letter, writing “out of great distress and anguish of heart and with many tears” (2:4). The purpose of that letter was not to grieve them, but to assure them of the depth of his love for them (2:4). Apparently the substance of that letter was a strong exhortation that they impose sanctions on someone within the church who was sinning grievously.
It has often been argued that that tearful letter is 1 Corinthians, and that the man Paul wants disciplined is the man who is sleeping with his stepmother (1 Cor. 5). Certainly that is a possible interpretation. On the whole, however, 1 Corinthians does not sound like the letter Paul briefly describes in 2 Corinthians 2:4. It is more probable that he is referring to another letter, of which we have no other knowledge, one that insisted that the Corinthian church take action. At least some at Corinth have given Paul a very hard time over the issue. Now, however, good sense has prevailed, along with submission to the apostle (2:9). The church has punished the recalcitrant sinner, who duly repented, and now Paul encourages the believers to bring the sanctions to an end and forgive the man (2:5-10). Too severe a judgment may itself tempt the church to harshness, thereby falling into another of Satan’s many ruses for outwitting believers and destroying them.
It is enormously encouraging to recognize in these interactions the vibrant vitality of early Christian relationships. Staid maintenance of the status quo may not be a sign of life; it may even be a sign of death. Where there are many new converts, there will be problems—and life.
MARCH 4
Exodus 15; Luke 18; Job 33; 2 Corinthians 3
ONCE THE EXCHANGES BETWEEN JOB and the “miserable comforters” have ground to a halt, a new figure appears on the scene. Elihu’s speech takes up chapters 32—37. He is a young man who has not spoken until now because the etiquette of the day demanded that the older men speak first. Elihu comes across as a rather bumptious individual who up to this point has only just barely restrained himself from speaking. But now he pours forth words like a torrent (as he himself acknowledges, 32:18-21) and vows that he will treat no one with corrosive flattery (32:22).
The substance of Elihu’s address first takes form in Job 33. Once one allows for his slightly defensive pomposity, Elihu nevertheless has some important things to say. At several points he skirts very close to what the others have said, yet he veers away from their most egregious errors so that the total configuration of his utterance is quite different.
In this chapter he addresses Job; later he will address the “comforters.” To Job he drives home two primary points.
First, Elihu asserts that although Job has acknowledged God’s greatness—indeed, Job has insisted on God’s greatness—he has gone over the top by so insisting on his own righteousness that he has made God out to be some sort of ogre. “I tell you, in this you are not right” (33:12). Wisely, Elihu stops there. He does not go on to say, as did the three “comforters,” that Job should also admit to being thoroughly guilty. Job’s sole guilt, so far as Elihu is concerned, is in charging God with guilt.
Second, Elihu asserts that God is not as distant and as inaccessible as Job makes him out to be (33:14ff.). God may come to a person in some strange dream of the night that warns him or her to abandon some evil path (33:15-18). Or—more to the point—God may actually speak in the language of pain, forestalling arrogance and independence (33:19-28). He may do these things more than once to someone, thereby turning back his soul from the grave (33:29-30). Elihu has thus opened up questions as to the purpose of suffering not entertained by either Job or his antagonists. He is certainly not saying that Job deserves all the suffering he is facing; indeed, Elihu insists that he wants Job to be cleared (33:32).
Apart from the importance of the issue itself—that suffering may have for its purpose something other than deserved punishment—the entire discussion reminds us of an important pastoral lesson. Of course, it is not invariably so; but sometimes when two opponents square off and neither will give an inch, neither has adequately reflected on the full parameters of the topic.
MARCH 5
Exodus 16; Luke 19; Job 34; 2 Corinthians 4
IN JOB 34, AT FIRST BLUSH ELIHU seems to be repeating the arguments of the three “comforters.” He summarizes Job’s argument (34:5-9): Job says that he is guiltless, that he has done no wrong, and that God denies him justice. The implication is that there is no advantage, no “profit,” in trying to please God (34:9). At this point Elihu sides with Job’s three interlocutors. “Far be it from God to do evil, from the Almighty to do wrong” (34:10), Elihu insists; and again, “It is unthinkable that God would do wrong, that the Almighty would pervert justice” (34:12).
The following verses pile up more arguments along the same lines, and for a while it appears that Elihu will tumble into the same traps of reductionistic merit theology that devoured those he is rebuking. But then he adds an element that once again puts his speech in a framework a little different from theirs. Elihu leaves place for mystery. While he insists that God is utterly just, he does not conclude, as the three “comforters” do, that this means every case of suffering must be the direct result of God’s just punishment. Elihu can ask, “But if [God] remains silent, who can condemn him? If he hides his face, who can see him?” (34:29). While Job flirts with the idea that God’s silence opens him to a charge of unfairness, Elihu assumes God’s justice, even if he (Elihu) does not draw out the inferences followed by the three miserable comforters. Elihu allows room for mystery, for divine silence that is nevertheless just silence.
Parts of Elihu’s speech are hard to take. But in the framework of the book of Job, two factors stand out. First, when God finally responds, Job is corrected (as we shall see), and the three “miserable comforters” are roundly rebuked because, God says, they “have not spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job has” (42:7)—but no charge at all is laid against Elihu. That may reflect the fact that he is a bit player; but it also reflects the fact that his basic stance is right, even if the tone is a tad self-righteous. Second, in his hinted suggestions that there may be in God mysterious realties and hidden reasons to which we do not have access, Elihu anticipates some of God’s own arguments when he speaks out of the storm in the closing chapters of the book (chaps. 38—41).
Biblical revelation provides us with many things to understand, some of which will require a lifetime of learning. But it also reminds us that God has not disclosed everything (Deut. 29:29). At some point God demands our trust and obedience, not merely our evaluation and understanding.
MARCH 6
Exodus 17; Luke 20; Job 35; 2 Corinthians 5
THINGS ARE NEVER QUITE AS GOOD as they might be. Or if for a brief moment they are as good as you can imagine them, if for a while you seem to suck in the nectar of life itself with every breath you breathe, you know as well as I do that such highs cannot last. Tomorrow you go back to work. You may enjoy your job, but it has its pressures. Your marriage may be well-nigh idyllic, but in a sour mood you may marvel at how much you cannot or will not share with your spouse. The warm west wind that tousles your hair metamorphoses into a tornado that destroys your home. One of your parents succumbs to Alzheimer’s; one of your children dies. There is so much around you to enjoy, yet just as you begin to chew on a filet mignon that your children have bought for you for your birthday, you remember the millions who starve every day. There is no escape from the brute reality that, however wonderful your experiences in this broken world, others suffer experiences far more corrosive, and you yourself cannot ever believe that what you are experiencing is utterly ideal.
That restlessness is for our good. It is a design feature of our makeup, of our nature as creatures made in the image of God. We were made to inhabit eternity; by constitution we know that we belong to something better than a world (however beautiful at times) awash in sin.
Paul understands this point perfectly (2 Corinthians 5:1-5). He anticipates the time when “the earthly tent” (our present body) will be destroyed, and we will receive “an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands” (5:1)—our resurrection body. “Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling” (5:2). It is not that we wish to “shuffle off our mortal coil” and exist in naked immortality: that is not our ultimate hope, for “we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life” (5:4).
Then Paul adds: “Now it is God who has made us for this very purpose and has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come” (5:5). God made us for this purpose, i.e., for the purpose of resurrection life, secured for us by the death of his Son. Moreover, in anticipation of this glorious consummation of life, already God has given us his Spirit as a deposit, a kind of down payment on the ultimate inheritance.
Small wonder, then, that we groan in anticipation and find our souls restless in this temporary abode that is under sentence of death.
MARCH 7
Exodus 18; Luke 21; Job 36; 2 Corinthians 6
ONE OF THE MOST MOVING VISIONS of apostolic ministry is found in 2 Corinthians 6:3-10. It takes little knowledge of his letters to perceive that Paul is unwilling to compromise the Gospel. He is more than willing to bear the offense of the cross. But equally obvious is his willingness to put up with any personal inconvenience or suffering in order to get the message across. “We put no stumbling block in anyone’s path,” he writes, “so that our ministry will not be discredited” (6:3). By maintaining what he calls “our ministry,” Paul is concerned to sustain not his personal reputation, but his credibility as an ambassador of Jesus Christ, as a servant of God. So he goes on, “Rather, as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way” (6:4).
This last sentence could be misleading, both in Paul’s day and in ours. For a minister of the Gospel today to “commend himself in every way” sounds a bit like an ugly piece of self-promotion. One’s imagination runs riot: the church bookstall selling T-shirts with “I love my Pastor Bob” emblazoned across the front, a stirring fanfare whenever he enters the pulpit, and so forth. The world of Corinth would also misconstrue Paul’s words. So many itinerant teachers were profoundly self-promoting. That was how they gained students—by commending themselves, explicitly and implicitly, as the best at what they did.
But Paul’s self-commendation suddenly takes a turn that neither the self-promoting types of ancient Corinth nor their smooth echoes in the modern Western church would want to follow. The framework of self-commendation Paul adopts, as a servant of God, is nothing like the framework of ordinary self-promoters, ancient or modern. Paul and other servants of God commend themselves “in great endurance; in troubles, hardships and distresses; in beatings, imprisonments and riots; in hard work, sleepless nights and hunger” (6:4b-5). Hard work? Ancient teachers were supposed to think and teach, not work hard with their hands. Riots? Are Christian apostles supposed to commend themselves as servants of God by the way they conduct themselves in riots!
Paul presses on: they are also to commend themselves “in purity, understanding, patience and kindness; in the Holy Spirit and in sincere love; in truthful speech and in the power of God; with weapons of righteousness in the right hand and in the left” (6:6-7).
Then there are all the projections people have of you: servants of God are to commend themselves “through glory and dishonor, bad report and good report” (6:8). Doubtless they are genuine, but many will view them as imposters. Indeed, Paul winds up his list with a litany of startling paradoxes (6:9-10).
Christian leadership, anyone?
MARCH 8
Exodus 19; Luke 22; Job 37; 2 Corinthians 7
SOMETIMES PEOPLE PRESENT PAUL as if he were a cold intellectual. Why “cold” should be connected with “intellectual,” I am not sure. It certainly does not fit Paul. Obviously, God gave Paul a first-class mind. But he was also a man of passionate intensity.
In 2 Corinthians 7 Paul testifies that, on the one hand, his joy knows no bounds (7:4); on the other hand, this joy has resulted from some news of the Corinthians that Paul received when he went to Macedonia. For on his first arrival in Macedonia, Paul had experienced no rest, but was “harassed at every turn—conflicts on the outside, fears within” (7:5). But then his fears and conflicts turned to joy when he received the good news about the Corinthians What prompted this vast transformation in the apostle’s outlook?
(1) Whatever the mechanics, Paul recognizes that the transformation was brought about by God, “who comforts the downcast” (7:6). In this case God brought comfort to Paul by restoring Titus to him, who brought with him some news of the Corinthians.
(2) The news Titus brought was that the Corinthians, however much they had been wounded by Paul’s previous visit and by the painful letter he had sent, had regained their equilibrium. They now longed to see Paul and expressed “ardent concern” for him (7:7). Titus brought the news that the sorrow evoked by Paul’s letter turned out to be a “godly sorrow” in that it led to repentance (7:8-10). Sorrow that generates repentance “leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death” (7:10). All this news of the Corinthians’ reactions has filled Paul with joy and encouragement.
This indicates, of course, that Paul is intimately involved in the lives of the people to whom he ministers. His own emotions may go up and down as a function of how they relate to him. But what is striking is that Paul avoids two very common traps. (a) Obviously, he avoids the kind of professional distance projected by some ministers as a protective shield. (b) Although his own joys and sorrows are clearly tied to what the Corinthian Christians think of him, that link is not primarily a personal link. When that is the case, the minister loses his prophetic voice and will say and do only what he thinks will maintain the affection of the flock. Paul has felt duty-bound to reprimand the Corinthians, in person and in writing; he has not flinched from that responsibility. His joy that they have returned to him is thus inseparable from his joy that they have returned to faithful allegiance to the Gospel—the heart of his unbounded delight.
MARCH 9
Exodus 20; Luke 23; Job 38; 2 Corinthians 8
AS WE APPROACH THE END OF THE DRAMA, God addresses Job directly for the first time (Job 38); he will continue to address Job through chapter 41. Elsewhere God speaks to Elijah in a still, small, voice (1 Kings 19); here God speaks to Job out of a storm (38:1), for he wants even the form of his communication, or its venue, to substantiate the large points he wishes to make.
God’s first words are terrifying: “Who is this that darkens my counsel with words without knowledge? Brace yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer me” (38:2-3). This opening salvo might lead the unwary to think that Job is the one with whom God is primarily displeased, and that the three miserable comforters have got off rather lightly. But like a drama that teeters back and forth between this perspective and that, this book is not finished yet. After all, the opening chapter records God’s estimate of Job, and nothing in these chapters reverses that estimate. Further, I have already drawn attention to 42:7, where God says he is angry with the three friends (something he never says about Job), because they did not speak what was right about God (as God’s servant Job did). God’s terrifying challenge to Job in these four chapters must be placed within the larger framework of the book, if we are to make sense of the whole.
Job has repeatedly said that he wishes to question God. Now God says that he will question Job (38:3). Yet the nature of the barrage of rhetorical questions God raises in these chapters is scarcely the kind of questions Job wants to address. Job wants to talk about his own sufferings, about the justice of them, about God’s role in sanctioning such sufferings, and the like. He wants to do this not least because he desires to maintain his justifiable reputation for integrity and righteousness. But God’s questions focus on a much bigger picture. God asks, in effect: “Job, were you present at the dawn of creation? Do you have intimate knowledge of the entire world, let alone of the heavens? Do you control the course of the constellations—Pleiades and Orion, let us say? Were you the one who constructed the human mind, so that you can explain how it works? Does your word exercise the kind of providential sway that grants food to hungry ravens or to a hunting lioness?”
At one level, of course, this response does not at all answer the kind of questions Job was raising. At another level, it does. It warns Job that his capacity to understand is more limited than he thinks. It prepares us for the conclusion that God wants something more from us than mere understanding.
MARCH 10
Exodus 21; Luke 24; Job 39; 2 Corinthians 9
THE SEPTEMBER 20 MEDITATION IN volume 1 worked its way through 2 Corinthians 9. Nevertheless I want to come back to that passage.
Paul’s carefully worded exhortation to the Christians in Corinth—to have ready for him the money they pledged to send to the poor in Jerusalem (chaps. 8—9)—need not be reviewed again. What I shall focus on for today’s meditation is how Paul’s exhortation about giving and money is tied to the Gospel.
In chapter 8 Paul invokes the example of Christ’s self-giving: “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that you through his poverty might become rich” (8:9). Here in chapter 9 Paul says that, if the Corinthians come through with their promised gift, people “will praise God for the obedience that accompanies your confession of the gospel of Christ, and for your generosity” (9:13, italics added). In any case Paul never lets Christians forget that all our giving is but a pale reflection of God’s “indescribable gift” (9:15), which of course lies at the heart of the Gospel.
So much of basic Christian ethics is tied in one way or another to the Gospel. When husbands need instruction on how to treat their wives, Paul does not introduce special marriage therapy or appeal to a mystical experience. Rather, he grounds conduct in the Gospel: “Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her” (Eph. 5:25). If you are looking for maturity, beware of any “deeper life” approach that sidesteps the Gospel, for Paul writes, “So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness” (Col. 2:6-7). Of course, there is “deeper life” in the sense that Christians are exhorted to press on toward greater conformity to Christ Jesus and not to be satisfied with their present level of obedience (e.g., Phil. 3). But none of this is an appeal to something that leaves the Gospel behind or that adds something to the Gospel.
We must avoid the view that, while the Gospel provides a sort of escape ticket from judgment and hell, all the real life-transforming power comes from something else—an esoteric doctrine, a mystical experience, a therapeutic technique, a discipleship course. That is too narrow a view of the Gospel. Worse, it ends up relativizing and marginalizing the Gospel, stripping it of its power while it directs the attention of people away from the Gospel and toward something less helpful.
MARCH 11
Exodus 22; John 1; Job 40; 2 Corinthians 10
HALFWAY THROUGH HIS LONG SPEECH to Job, God gives him an opportunity to respond. Following a rhetorical question (“Will the one who contends with the Almighty correct him?”), God says, “Let him who accuses God answer him!” (Job 40:2).
It is vital for the understanding of this book that we do not misunderstand this challenge. God is not withdrawing his initial estimate of Job (1:1, 8). Even under the most horrible barrage from Satan and from the three “miserable comforters,” Job has not weakened his fundamental integrity nor lost his basic loyalty to the Almighty. He has not followed the advice of his suffering wife to curse God and die; he has not followed the advice of his friends and simply assumed he was suffering for sins hitherto unrecognized and therefore turned to repentance. But he has come within a whisker of blaming God for his sufferings; or, better put, he has certainly insisted that he wants his day in court, that he wants to justify himself to God. Implicitly, and sometimes explicitly, Job has accused God of being unjust, or of being so removed that the just and the unjust seem to face the same ends. In his better moments Job steps back from the least restrained parts of his rhetoric, but he certainly feels, to say the least, that God owes him an explanation.
But now God is saying, in effect, that the person who wants to “contend” with God—to argue out some matter—must not begin by assuming that God is wrong or by accusing the Almighty of not getting things right. That has been the thrust of the rhetorical questions (chaps. 38—39): Job has neither the knowledge nor the power to be able to stand in judgment of God.
By this point Job has apparently absorbed the lesson: “I am unworthy—how can I reply to you? I put my hand over my mouth. I spoke once, but I have no answer—twice, but I will say no more” (40:4-5). But the question arises, Is Job really convinced that he was out of line? Does Job now really believe that, however righteous he may have been, he really does not have the right to talk to God that way? Or, devout man that he is, has he simply been cowed into quiescence?
God takes no chances: he presents Job with two more chapters (40—41) of unanswerable rhetorical questions. Once more Job is told to “brace [himself] like a man”—and then God begins: “Would you discredit my justice? Would you condemn me to justify yourself?” (40:8). It is as if God wants something more from Job, something that Job recognizes only in the last chapter of the drama.
MARCH 12
Exodus 23; John 2; Job 41; 2 Corinthians 11
LIKE THE PREVIOUS THREE CHAPTERS, much of Job 41 is designed to help Job come to terms with his limitations. If Job admits what he does not know and cannot do—all of which God knows and can do—then perhaps he will be less quick to accuse God.
One verse, Job 41:11, demands further reflection. God speaks: “Who has a claim against me that I must pay? Everything under heaven belongs to me.”
Is God’s immunity from prosecution built on nothing more than raw power? We imagine the lowliest citizen in Nazi Germany trying to sue Hitler, and Hitler’s brutal response: “Who has a claim against me that I must pay? Everything in the Third Reich belongs to me.” Coming from Hitler, this would have seemed a distinctly immoral declaration. So why should God avail himself of its cosmic analog?
First, if this were God’s only declaration about himself, it would not be a very good one. But this declaration comes within the context of the book of Job, and within the larger context of the canon of Scripture. Within the book of Job, there is common ground between Job and God: both acknowledge that in the last analysis God is just. Job is not a modern skeptic searching for reasons to dismiss God; God is not a Hitler. But if God and Job agree that God is just, at some point Job must also see that God is not a peer to drag into court. Trust in God is more important than trying to justify yourself before God—no matter how righteous you have been.
Second, within the context of the entire canon, God has repeatedly shown his patience and forbearance toward the race of his image-bearers, who constantly challenge him and rebel against him. He is the God who with perfect holiness could have destroyed us all; he is the God who on occasion has demonstrated the terrifying potential for judgment (the Flood; Sodom and Gomorrah; the exile of his own covenant people). Above all, despite the Bible’s repeated insistence that God could rightly condemn all, he is the God who sends his own Son to die in place of a redeemed new humanity.
Third, within such frameworks Job 41:11 is a salutary reminder that we are not independent. Even if God were not the supremely good God he is, we would have no comeback. He owns us; he owns the universe; all the authority is his, all the branches of divine government are his, the ultimate judiciary is his. There is no “outside” place from which to judge him. To pretend otherwise is futile; worse, it is part of our race’s rebellion against God—imagining he owes us something, imagining we are well placed to tell him off. Such wild fantasy is neither sensible nor good.
MARCH 13
Exodus 24; John 3; Job 42; 2 Corinthians 12
THREE REFLECTIONS ON Job 42:
(a) Job’s response to the Lord (42:1-6) is not, “Now I get it. Now I understand,” but hearty repentance. He even summarizes God’s argument back to him: “You asked, ‘Who is this that obscures my counsel without knowledge?’” (42:3). Without a trace of self-justification, Job responds, “Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know” (42:3). Job is now certain that in the last analysis none of God’s plans can be thwarted (42:2). In fact, God’s massive self-disclosure in words to Job has revealed so much more of God that Job contrasts his present seeing of God with what he had only heard about him in the past—which of course reminds us that very often in Scripture God enables us to “see” him by disclosing himself in words. “Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes” (42:6). This is not saying that the three friends were right after all. Job is not now admitting to large swaths of hidden guilt that ostensibly brought on his suffering, but to the guilt of demanding that God provide him with a thorough explanation.
(b) The three friends are forgiven for all the false things they said about God only because of Job’s intercession (42:7-9). This eminently suits the crime: they have been condemning Job, but only Job’s prayers will suffice for their own forgiveness. What they have said that is not right about God (42:7, 8) can only be their simplistic tit-for-tat merit theology. They have allowed no mystery and grandeur; implicitly, they have allowed no grace.
(c) The drama ends with a massive vindication of Job. His wealth is restored (and doubled), he is given a new family, and all of the old honor in which he was held is restored and increased. Many a contemporary critic finds this fanciful, or even a secondary ending that some dumb editor has tacked on to the end of a more nuanced book. Such skepticism is profoundly mistaken. One of the points of the book is that in the end the people of God are vindicated. God is just. Similarly, Christians are not asked to accept suffering without vindication, death and self-denial without promise of heaven. Evil may now be mysterious, but it will not be triumphant. We are not spiritual masochists who can only be fulfilled by suffering. If there is any sense in which we delight in sufferings, it is that we delight to follow the Lord Jesus who suffered. Even he did not delight in sufferings. The pioneer and perfecter of our faith was the one “who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb. 12:2, italics added). So “let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us” (Heb. 12:1).
MARCH 14
Exodus 25; John 4; Proverbs 1; 2 Corinthians 13
BEFORE EMBARKING ON PROVERBS 1, I must say a little about “wisdom” in the Old Testament. For us, wisdom means something like sagacity. The wise person is insightful, perceptive, even shrewd, able to apply knowledge to diverse people and circumstances. One can understand why T. S. Eliot, in one of his more prescient anticipations of the digital age, asked where wisdom is now that it has been lost in knowledge, and where knowledge is now that it has been lost in information.
But wisdom in the Old Testament, though its meaning sometimes overlaps with modern English use, has a flavor all its own. At one level, it is a broad concept that embraces the structure of everything in God’s universe, both substance and relationships, even before anything exists (cf. 8:22). The glory of God is manifested in such wisdom; it may even be manifested by his resolve to hide such wisdom (25:2). Yet at another level, wisdom in the Old Testament is simply a skill of one kind or another. (1) It may be the skill to survive, which is why ants and lizards are said to be extremely wise (30:24-28). (2) It is the skill to get along with people, what we call “social skills”—how to get along with friends, employers, rulers, spouse, and above all with God. Intuitively one glimpses how this practical “wisdom” or skill is related to the fundamental wisdom, i.e., to how things really are in God’s universe. This use of “wisdom” is strikingly common in Proverbs. (3) Wisdom may refer to some technical skill or other (e.g., Ex. 28:3). In today’s categories, one might have the “wisdom” to run a lathe or program a computer or sew a fine garment. One of these practical skills, one that overlaps with the second entry, is administrative skill, administrative wisdom. This includes judicial insight. It involves not only the mechanics of administration, but being able to listen attentively and penetrate to the heart of a matter (e.g., Deut. 1:15). This, of course, was the “wisdom” for which Solomon prayed (1 Kings 3); it is the wisdom that characterizes the Messiah (Isa. 11:2).
The proverbs of this book, then, are set out “for attaining wisdom and discipline; for understanding words of insight; for acquiring a disciplined and prudent life, doing what is right and just and fair” (1:2-3). The opposite of wisdom is therefore not only “folly” in some intellectual sense, but “folly” understood to be little short of sin. So the “son” of this chapter is exhorted to follow the instruction of Mum and Dad (1:8), or more generally, to pursue wisdom (1:20ff.); the alternative is to be enticed by sinners into some other path (1:10ff.).
MARCH 15
Exodus 26; John 5; Proverbs 2; Galatians 1
PERHAPS NOWHERE IS IT CLEARER than in Proverbs 2 that the antonym of Old Testament wisdom is sin.
Solomon addresses his “son”—perhaps his immediate son and heir to the throne, or perhaps a more general reference. Solomon wants this son to “store up” his father’s commands, to turn his ear to wisdom and his heart to understanding (2:1-2). If that is his passion, then (Solomon tells him) “you will understand the fear of the LORD and find the knowledge of God. For the LORD gives wisdom, and from his mouth come knowledge and understanding” (2:5-6). Such pursuit of wisdom will not make a person cunning or shrewd in a crafty sense. Far from it: “Then you will understand what is right and just and fair—every good path. For wisdom will enter your heart, and knowledge will be pleasant to your soul. Discretion will protect you, and understanding will guard you. Wisdom will save you from the ways of wicked men, from men whose words are perverse” (2:9-12).
We should reflect a little on such an understanding of wisdom. The cynical might condescendingly say that this vision of wisdom is too small. It is nothing but the parochial advantage of religious people. Genuine wisdom in our world is often associated with the kind of “sophistication” that moves comfortably, and with equal lack of commitment, around secularists, Christians, Buddhists, Muslims, pagans—taking from each a bit, rejecting other things, all in the name of a cosmopolitan wisdom. Alternatively, wisdom might be linked with the kinds of “people smarts” that enable you to run a large corporation and make your way in the business world or in the arts. Certainly it has nothing necessarily to do with religion.
Not for a moment should such gifts as “people smarts” be despised. But by itself, such “wisdom” would be judged raw folly in the Bible’s view of things. From God’s perspective, what advantage is there in gaining the plaudits of a culture that disowns God? Does not Jesus ask, “What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul?” (Mark 8:36-37). If this is God’s universe, if he is our Maker and Judge, why on earth (or beyond the earth, for that matter!) should anything be called “wise” that ignores him? How much less should it be called “wise” if it indulges in actions or attitudes forbidden by him? Far from the Old Testament wisdom being confined or too religious, for the Christian, who knows the living God, it is the only view of wisdom that makes sense. Any other stance is necessarily rather sad and frequently merely self-serving.
MARCH 16
Exodus 27; John 6; Proverbs 3; Galatians 2
PROVERBS 3 INCLUDES SEVERAL well-known passages. Many Christians have been told not to be wise in their own eyes (3:7). The passage that likens the Lord’s discipline of believers to a father’s discipline of the son he delights in (3:11-12) reappears in the New Testament (Heb. 12:5-6). Growing up in a Christian home, I was frequently told, “Blessed is the man who finds wisdom, the man who gains understanding.... She [wisdom] is more precious than rubies; nothing you desire can compare with her” (3:13, 15). Wisdom is either God’s plan or the personified means of establishing the entire created order (3:19-20).
But first place should go to 3:5-6, enshrined on many walls and learned by countless generations of Sunday school students: “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.” Observe:
(1) The first part of this familiar text attacks the independence at the root of all sin. Our own understanding is insufficient and frequently skewed. The only right path is to trust in the Lord. Such trust in the Lord is not an ethereal subjectivism; it is the kind of whole-life commitment (“with all your heart,” Solomon says) that abandons self-centered perspectives for the Lord’s perspectives. In the context of biblical religion, that means learning and knowing what the Lord’s will is, and obeying it regardless of whether or not it is the “in” thing to do. Far from being an appeal to subjective guidance, this trusting the Lord with your whole heart entails meditating on his word, hiding that word in your heart, learning to think God’s thoughts after him—precisely so that you do not lean on your own understanding. Joshua was required to learn that lesson at the beginning of his leadership (Josh. 1:6-9). The kings of Israel were supposed to learn it (Deut. 17:18-20), but rarely did.
(2) The second couplet, “in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight,” demands more than that we acknowledge that God exists and that he is in providential control, or some such thing. It means we must so acknowledge him that his ways and laws and character shape our choices and direct our lives. In all your ways, then, acknowledge him—not exclusively in some narrow religious sphere, but in all the dimensions of your life. The alternative is to disown him.
Thus the second couplet is essentially parallel to the first. The result is a straight course, directed by God himself.
MARCH 17
Exodus 28; John 7; Proverbs 4; Galatians 3
“ABOVE ALL ELSE, GUARD YOUR HEART, for it is the wellspring of life”
(Proverbs 4:23).
(1) In contemporary Western symbolism, the heart is the seat of emotions: e.g., “I love you with all my heart.” But in the symbol-world of Scripture, the heart is the seat of the whole person. It is closer to what we mean by “mind,” though in English “mind” is perhaps a little too restrictively cerebral.
(2) So “guard your heart” means more than “be careful what, or whom, you love”—though it cannot easily mean less than that. It means something like, “Be careful what you treasure; be careful what you set your affections and thoughts on.”
(3) For the “heart,” in this usage, “is the wellspring of life.” It directs the rest of life. What you set your mind and emotions on determines where you go and what you do. It may easily pollute all of life. The imagery is perhaps all the clearer in this section of Proverbs because the ensuing verses mention other organs: “Put away perversity from your mouth; keep corrupt talk far from your lips. Let your eyes look straight ahead. . . . Make level paths for your feet” (4:24-26, italics added). But above all, guard your heart, “for it is the wellspring of life.” It is the source of everything in a way that, say, the feet are not. Jesus picks up much the same imagery. “You brood of vipers,” he says to one group, “how can you who are evil say anything good? For out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks. The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in him, and the evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in him” (Matt. 12:34-35, italics added). So guard your heart.
(4) Make this duty of paramount importance: “Above all else, guard your heart.” One can see why. If the heart is nothing other than the center of your entire personality, that is what must be preserved. If your religion is merely external, while your “heart” is a seething mass of self-interest, what good is the religion? If your heart is ardently pursuing peripheral things (not necessarily prurient things), then from a Christian perspective you soon come to be occupied with the merely peripheral. If what you dream of is possessing a certain thing, if what you pant for is a certain salary or reputation, that shapes your life. But if above all else you see it to be your duty to guard your heart, that resolve will translate itself into choices of what you read, how you pray, what you linger over. It will prompt self-examination and confession, repentance, and faith, and will transform the rest of your life.
MARCH 18
Exodus 29; John 8; Proverbs 5; Galatians 4
ALL OF PROVERBS 5 IS A WARNING, in wisdom categories, against succumbing to an adulteress—a warning that keeps returning in the opening chapters of this book (e.g., 6:20-35; 7:1-27). Sometimes it appears that prostitution is in view; sometimes it is simple adultery.
In an age of heightened sensibilities about stereotypes, some have taken umbrage that the person doing the tempting is invariably an adulteress. In the real world, isn’t the tempter at least as often the male, an adulterer?
Many things could be said, but four brief comments will suffice. (a) In part the warning is against an adulteress because it is offered to “my son” (5:1), following up on the fundamental structure of the genre (1:8; see meditation for March 15). (b) Even so, the “son” who goes off with an adulteress is certainly not shielded from blame. The errant son in this chapter is portrayed as more than a victim. This is the son who “hated discipline” and whose heart “spurned correction” (5:12). It is said of him, “The evil deeds of a wicked man ensnare him; the cords of his sin hold him fast” (5:22). He is guilty of “great folly” (5:23). (c) In this book, both wisdom and folly will later be personified as women (Prov. 9; see meditation for March 22). In other words, there is no univocal connection between women and evil. Men are often evil, and so are women. Both are called to pursue “Lady Wisdom.” (d) In any case, in the larger canon there are many places where the primary blame for sexual misconduct is clearly laid at the man’s door. That is true, for instance, of Judah’s affair with Tamar, of Amnon’s rape of his half-sister, of David’s seduction of Bathsheba.
Adultery itself is wrong, or foolish, or sinful, or short-term, or undisciplined—whatever the category Proverbs deploys—and not just the adulteress. The chapter not only articulates warnings, but offers an alternative: a marriage that is cherished, developed, nurtured, not least in the sexual arena (5:18-19). But beyond all the immediate and cultural reasons for sexual fidelity in marriage is one of transcendent importance: “For a man’s ways are in full view of the LORD, and he examines all his paths” (5:21). There are, of course, several similar verses in Scripture—e.g., “Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of him to whom we must give account” (Heb. 4:13). But in the context of Wisdom Literature, there is an additional overtone. Not only does God see everything, including any sexual misconduct, but it is the part of wisdom, the wisdom of living out life in God’s universe in God’s way, to please our Maker.
MARCH 19
Exodus 30; John 9; Proverbs 6; Galatians 5
THE BEGINNING AND THE ENDING OF Galatians 5, taken together, tell us a great deal about the Gospel that Paul preaches.
In the first part, Paul is still trying to persuade his Gentile Christian readers in Galatia that adding Jewish heritage and ritual to their Christian faith does not add something to it, but subtracts something from it. In particular, if they submit to circumcision, then “Christ will be of no value” to them at all (5:2). Why not? What harm could arise from being circumcised? Paul explains that the Gentile who allows himself to be circumcised “is obligated to obey the whole law” (5:3). That was the symbol-significance of circumcision: it was the mark of submission to the law-covenant. But to take that step betrays a massive failure to understand the true relationship between the law-covenant and the new covenant that the Lord Jesus Christ introduced. The former prepares for the latter, announces the latter, anticipates the latter. But to commit oneself to obeying the terms of the law-covenant is to announce that the new covenant Jesus secured by his death is somehow inadequate. These Galatians, who have in the past clearly understood that men and women are justified by grace through faith, are now “trying to be justified by law,” and in so doing “have been alienated from Christ”; it means nothing less than falling away from grace (5:4). The ultimate righteousness will be ours at the end, when Jesus returns. Meanwhile, “by faith we eagerly await through the Spirit the righteousness for which we hope” (5:5). To understand the crucial significance of Christ this way means that those who believe in Christ Jesus—what he has accomplished for us in his central place in redemptive history— know full well that circumcision itself is neither here nor there (5:6). But circumcision actually subtracts from Christ if one undergoes it out of a desire to submit to a covenant that in certain respects Christ has made passé.
While in the first part of the chapter Paul talks about the work of Christ, he slips in a brief mention of the Spirit: “By faith we eagerly await through the Spirit the righteousness for which we hope” (5:5, italics added). Already the Spirit is given to believers, consequent upon Christ’s work. Christians, then, are those who “keep in step with the Spirit” (5:25), who display the lovely fruit of the Spirit: “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control” (5:22-23). Pursue those things; there is no law against them, and they stand over against the wretched acts of our sinful nature (5:19-21; cf. Prov. 6:16-19) against which the Law pronounced but which it could not overcome.
MARCH 20
Exodus 31; John 10; Proverbs 7; Galatians 6
IN AN EARLIER MEDITATION (vol. 1, September 30), I reflected on the flow of thought in Galatians 6. Here I want to focus on elements of Galatians 6:1-5.
On the face of it, there is a formal contradiction between 6:2, “Carry each other’s burdens,” and 6:5, “for each one should carry his own load.” One could guess at a pastoral resolution. Christians should be concerned to help others; at the same time, they should not invert this concern and so depend on the help of others that they become nothing but freeloaders. In other words, 6:2 makes abundant sense when it is understood to forbid isolationism and to mandate compassion; 6:5 makes abundant sense when it is understood to forbid sponging and to mandate personal responsibility.
But the context of the paragraph in which both sayings are embedded enables us to go a little farther. The passage begins by exhorting Christians to restore, gently, a brother or sister who is caught in a sin (6:1). More specifically, Paul says that “you who are spiritual” ought to undertake this task. In light of the preceding verses (see yesterday’s meditation), those who are “spiritual” are Christians who manifestly “keep in step with the Spirit” (5:25) and thus produce the fruit of the Spirit. This responsibility is laid on all Christians, but obviously some Christians are a little farther along in their fruit-bearing than others. So Christians who produce the fruit of the Spirit, as mandated of all Christians, should take primary responsibility for gently restoring a believer caught in a sin.
This should be a gentle restoration, not least because thoughtful Christians will recognize how they too may be tempted by this or some other evil (6:1b). By helping one another in this way—with encouragement, prayer, moral support, companionship, accountability, whatever—we thereby “carry each other’s burdens” (6:2). This, of course, is equivalent to fulfilling the law of Christ, who not only taught that the greatest commandments are to love God and to love your neighbor as yourself, but gave us his “new commandment”—to love one another as Jesus himself loved them (John 13:34-35).
In such a regime, self-promotion is ugly, futile, and self-deceiving (6:3). Pride goes before a fall. It vitiates the quiet self-examination that is ruthlessly and patiently honest (6:4). Community-destroying, soul-deceiving pride is displayed when Christians compare their service records in order to put the other person down. Honest self-evaluation engenders a godly thankfulness and a legitimate pride that never puts another person down, for “each one should carry his own load” (6:5).
MARCH 21
Exodus 32; John 11; Proverbs 8; Ephesians 1
IN GREEK, EPHESIANS 1:3-14 is one long sentence. Perhaps that is one of the reasons why even the best English translations are a little condensed and not simple to unpack. Here I shall focus on the first part, Ephesians 1:3-10, and reflect on how three themes come together: God’s predestining sovereignty, God’s unqualified grace, and God’s glorious purposes.
The passage is a doxology, a word of praise, “to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ”—and the following verses provide the reasons why we should praise this God and why his Son Jesus Christ is integral to his praiseworthy deeds. This God, Paul immediately says, is the One “who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ” (1:3). The “us” refers to Christians; the blessings we have received are “in Christ”; and the sphere of these spiritual blessings is “the heavenly realms.” In Ephesians, “the heavenly realms” or “the heavenlies” refers to the heavenly dimension of our ultimate existence, experienced in some measure right now. So already we are being introduced to the third theme, God’s glorious purpose.
If the description of God in 1:3 already exposes the reader to at least some of the reason why God is to be praised, the “for” at the beginning of verse 4 introduces the formal reason: even before the world was created, God chose us in Christ (God’s predestining sovereignty) “to be holy and blameless in his sight” (God’s glorious purpose). Indeed, “In love he predestined us” (God’s unqualified grace and his predestining sovereignty) “to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ” (God’s glorious purpose), “in accordance with his pleasure and will” (God’s predestining sovereignty)—all of this “to the praise of his glorious grace” (both God’s glorious purpose and his unqualified grace), “which he has freely given us in the One he loves” (God’s unqualified grace). “In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins” (God’s glorious purpose), “in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that he lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding” (God’s unqualified grace) (1:4-8).
Read through the rest of this passage and work out these themes (and there are others) for yourself.
The themes hang together in important ways. The more clearly one sees how sovereign is God’s choice, the more clearly does his unmerited grace stand out. But sovereign “predestination” is irrational without a “destination”: God’s purposes in his sovereign sway are thus inescapably tied to his sovereignty and his grace. The more we glimpse God’s wonderfully good purposes, the more we shall be grateful for his sovereign sway in bringing them to pass.
MARCH 22
Exodus 33; John 12; Proverbs 9; Ephesians 2
IN REAL LIFE, MOST OF US ARE A MIX of wise and foolish, prudent and silly, thoughtful and impulsive. Nevertheless it helps us to see what the issues are by setting out the alternatives as a simple choice. That is what Proverbs 9 does for us. It pictures two women, Wisdom and Folly, calling out to people. In some ways, this drive toward a simple choice—wisdom or folly, good or evil, the Lord or rebellion—is typical of Wisdom Literature. It is a powerful, evocative way of getting across the fundamental issues in the choices we make.
Let us begin with Folly (9:13-18). The way Folly sits in the door of her house reminds the reader of a prostitute. She calls out to those who pass by, to those who otherwise “go straight on their way” (9:15). She is “undisciplined and without knowledge” (9:13). What she offers is never fresh: it is warmed over, stolen stuff, garnished with promises of esoteric enjoyment—not unlike the promise of illicit sex (9:17). Those who are snookered by her do not reflect on the fact that her seductions lead to death (9:17).
Wisdom, too, builds a house and calls people in (9:1-6). But her house is stable and well-built (9:1). Like Folly, Wisdom calls “from the highest point of the city,” where she can be heard (9:3, 14); but unlike Folly, Wisdom has prepared a delicious and nourishing meal (9:2, 5). The “simple,” i.e., those who do not yet have wisdom but are willing to acquire it, may come and feast, and learn to “walk in the way of understanding” (9:6).
Of course, to speak of informing or correcting the simple immediately draws attention to how the counsel of Wisdom will be received. There is a sense in which someone who accepts wisdom is already proving wise; the person who rejects wisdom is a mocker or wicked. Hence the powerful contrast of the next verses (9:7-9): “Do not rebuke a mocker or he will hate you; rebuke a wise man and he will love you” (9:8)—with the two alternatives fleshed out in the verses on either side of this one (9:7, 9).
The high point in the chapter comes with 9:10-12: “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom, and knowledge of the Holy One is understanding” (9:10). Normally, there are blessings even in this life for those with such priorities and commitments (9:11-12). Above all, this definition of “the beginning of wisdom” powerfully shows that the wisdom held up in Proverbs is neither esoteric insight nor secular intellectual prowess; rather, it is devotion to God and all that flows from such devotion in thought and life.
MARCH 23
Exodus 34; John 13; Proverbs 10; Ephesians 3
PROVERBS 10 OPENS A NEW SECTION of the book of Proverbs, titled “Proverbs of Solomon” in most of our English Bibles (compare the sectional headings before chapters 25, 30, and 31). People who study these chapters debate over the extent to which each of these sections is organized, as opposed to preserving loose collections of proverbs. Almost all agree, however, that very frequently certain themes dominate a section. For instance, it is worth reading through chapter 10 and highlighting every word related to human speech: mouth, lips, chattering fool, tongue, and so forth. Proverbs 10:19 is choice: “When words are many, sin is not absent, but he who holds his tongue is wise.”
Instead of pursuing this theme, today I want to reflect on what a proverb is. A proverb is not case law, i.e., a piece of legislation that covers a particular case. Nor is it unbridled promise. This affects how one interprets proverbs. Consider, for instance, 10:27: “The fear of the LORD adds length to life, but the years of the wicked are cut short.” If this is unqualified promise, it follows that righteous people will invariably live longer than unrighteous people. Find someone who dies relatively young, and you know you are dealing with a wicked person. Someone who lives to the age of one hundred must be a righteous person.
But we know perfectly well that the world is not like that. Godly young people sometimes die of cancer. Having worked our way through Job, we are painfully aware that sometimes reprobates live to a ripe old age. And what shall we say of people who die unexpectedly in accidents, or in storms and other “acts of God,” or in persecution?
Does this mean, then, that Proverbs 10:27 is robbed of all meaning? No, of course not. But it is a proverb, not an unqualified promise. A proverb is a wise saying, an aphorism. Most of the proverbs in this book provide wise, generalizing conclusions about how the world works under God’s providential rule. The fear of the Lord really does add years to one’s life: on the whole, a life lived in this way will adopt fewer bad habits, will learn to trust and therefore reduce stress, will honor hard work offered up to the Lord, will cherish family and friends, and so forth—and in God’s universe all of these things have effects. None of this means that a godly person cannot die younger than an ungodly person. It does mean that, in a particular group of people, on the whole those who fear the Lord will live longer than those who do not. This is the blessing of God; the Lord has constructed the universe this way and continues his providential rule over it.
MARCH 24
Exodus 35; John 14; Proverbs 11; Ephesians 4
I WISH TO DRAW ATTENTION TO three proverbs, or kinds of proverbs, in Proverbs 11:
(1) Like Proverbs 10, this chapter includes several proverbs that focus on the tongue, on human speech. The entire section 11:9-14 deals with one aspect or another of how the mouth may prove to be either a blessing or a curse. Among the more interesting elements is the twin mention of the fact that sometimes the most godly thing a mouth may do is keep silent: “a man of understanding holds his tongue. . . . a trustworthy man keeps a secret” (11:12, 13). Another striking feature of this section is its insistence that the mouth can either bless an entire city (and, in principle, a nation), or destroy it (11:10, 11, 14). The one tongue offers sage counsel, prophetic rebuke, strategic planning, utter integrity in matters of government and jurisprudence, a respectful humility in dealing with others, and transparent encouragement to walk in the fear of the Lord. The other tongue is pretentious, deceitful, happy to corrupt both legislative and judicial processes, self-serving, and manipulative.
(2) “Like a gold ring in a pig’s snout is a beautiful woman who shows no discretion” (11:22). Structurally, the Hebrew is simple parallelism without predication: “A ring of gold in the snout of a pig / A beautiful woman without discretion.” To make the Hebrew’s subtle comparison explicit (since English poetry is not as dependent on parallelism as Hebrew poetry is), the NIV has constructed a simile. But the point is the same, and the imagery wonderfully evocative. The large, half-wild pigs of the ancient world had rings in their noses to control them. Never were those rings made of gold! The obvious silliness of the image would for the Jew carry a touch of repulsiveness, since pigs were unclean animals. On the same scale, but in a different dimension, the excellence of beauty in a woman is demeaned, debased to the level of a repulsive joke, when the woman herself shows no discretion. There is a great deal in our culture, and not just in Hollywood, that could profit from this proverb.
(3) “One man gives freely, yet gains even more; another withholds unduly, but comes to poverty” (11:24). Paradox is another feature of many proverbs. This sort of utterance is far more powerful than a simple exhortation, “We ought to be generous,” or a simple slogan, “Generosity pays,” or the like. The way our providential God has ordered the universe, the generous hand, as a rule, has much to give. Very often the selfish miser ends up in bitter penury. Can you think of examples?
MARCH 25
Exodus 36; John 15; Proverbs 12; Ephesians 5
IN THE CONTEMPORARY CLIMATE, a straightforward reading of Ephesians 5:21-33 is increasingly unpopular. Without descending to details, I shall venture my understanding of the flow of the passage.
(1) Oddly, the NIV prints 5:21 (“Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.”) as a separate paragraph. In the original, this is the last of a string of participial expressions that fill out what it means to be filled with the Spirit (5:18): functionally, being filled with the Spirit means everything in 5:19-21. Moreover, the words “submit to one another” should not be taken in a mutually reciprocal way, as if exhorting all Christians to submit to one another reciprocally. For: (a) the verb “to submit” in Greek always refers to submission in some sort of ordered array, never to mutual deference; (b) the idea is then picked up in the following “household table” of duties: wives submit to husbands, children to parents, and slaves to masters (5:22—6:4); (c) the same vision of submission is repeated in the New Testament (Col. 3:18-19; Titus 2:4-5; 1 Pet. 3:1-6); (d) the Greek pronoun rendered “one another” is often not reciprocal (e.g., Rev. 6:4).
(2) Nevertheless, certain things must be said about the wife’s submission to her husband (5:22-24). (a) It is not to be confused with certain pathetic stereotypes—groveling, self-pity, unequal pay for equal work (as if God were the God of injustice), and the like. (b) This submission is modeled on the church’s responsibility to submit to Christ. This brings up large issues of typology that cannot be explored here. But practically, it ought to reduce nagging, belittling one’s husband, browbeating manipulation, and the like. (c) This submission does not deny equal worth (both are made in the image of God) or perfect functional equality in many domains (e.g., sexual rights, in 1 Cor. 7).
(3) Husbands are to love their wives as Christ loved the church (5:25-33)—which at the very least means loving their wives self-sacrificially and for their good. More explicitly, the husband’s love for his wife must mirror Christ’s love for his church (a) in its self-sacrifice (5:25); (b) in its goal (5:26-28a), seeking her good and her holiness; (c) in its self-interest (5:28b-30)—for there is a kind of identification that the husband makes with his wife, as Christ identifies himself with his church; (d) in its typological fulfillment (5:31-33)—which again introduces huge typological structures that run right through the Bible.
The responsibilities of both husband and wife are dramatically opposed to self-interest.
MARCH 26
Exodus 37; John 16; Proverbs 13; Ephesians 6
THE PARALLELISM IN THE Bible’s Wisdom Literature is diverse. Understanding this helps us to reflect more accurately on Scripture. It is easy to illustrate the point with two or three kinds of parallelism drawn from Proverbs 13.
Some instances of parallelism are simple opposites. “He who walks with the wise grows wise, / but a companion of fools suffers harm” (13:20). The second line is almost the opposite of the first, and the two lines together remind readers that they will be shaped by the company they keep and by the advice they listen to. “He who spares the rod hates his son, / but he who loves him is careful to discipline him” (13:24). The first line may employ a touch of hyperbole, but the contrast between the two lines makes the lesson of the whole verse clear enough.
In some cases the second line is not the opposite of the first line, but an extension of it. “The teaching of the wise is a fountain of life, / turning a man from the snares of death” (13:14). Of course, there is a contrast between “life” and “death,” nevertheless the thought of the second line is not the opposite to what is expressed in the first line, but a further exposition of it. This is sometimes called “step parallelism.”
Perhaps the proverbs that demand the most focused reflection are those in which the two lines are obviously meant to be opposites, and yet the categories do not, on first reading, quite line up. Such proverbs are gently provocative. Each of the two lines is subtly shaped by the other.
Here are two examples. “Pride only breeds quarrels, / but wisdom is found in those who take advice” (13:10). Merely formal parallelism might have preferred, “Pride only breeds quarrels, / but humility generates peace.” But the text of Scripture invites more profound analysis. “Wisdom” is contrasted with “pride”— which gently discloses what wisdom is, while implicitly saying that pride is folly. The quarrels of the first line are generated by the arrogant refusal to listen to another point of view, to take advice.
Or again, “Every prudent man acts out of knowledge, but a fool exposes his folly” (13:16). A simple contrast would have preferred: “Every prudent man acts out of knowledge, / but a fool acts out of ignorance [or folly].” But the second line says that the fool exposes his folly. The two lines become mutually clarifying. The prudent man who acts out of knowledge (line 1) thereby displays his wisdom; the fool acts out of folly, and thereby exposes it for all to see. In this light, reflect on Psalm 14:1!
MARCH 27
Exodus 38; John 17; Proverbs 14; Philippians 1
WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO “conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ” (Philippians 1:27)? The expression is striking. It is also adverbial—that is, it describes the manner of our conduct, not us. Paul does not say that we ourselves are worthy of the Gospel, for that would be a contradiction in terms: the Gospel, by definition, is good news to people who are not worthy of it. But once we have received the Gospel, however unworthy we may be, we are to conduct ourselves in a manner worthy of it.
The way Christians are to do this (Philippians 1:27-30) is by standing firm together (“in one spirit,” 1:27), “contending as one man for the faith of the gospel without being frightened in any way by those who oppose [them]” (1:27-28). People who have benefited from the Gospel are certainly not conducting themselves in a way worthy of the Gospel if they are ashamed of it (Rom. 1:16). Of course, in a time when the surrounding culture ridicules Christians or even persecutes them, it takes courage to stand together in bold and transparent witness to the power of the Gospel. But there, too, another element of what it means to conduct oneself in a manner worthy of the Gospel comes into play. “For it has been granted to you on behalf of Christ not only to believe on him, but also to suffer for him” (1:29).
What a remarkable notion! Paul does not say that these Christians have been called to suffer as well as to believe, but that it has been granted to them to suffer as well as to believe—as if both suffering for Christ and believing in Christ were blessed privileges that have been graciously granted. That, of course, is precisely what he means. We often think of faith as a gracious gift of God (Eph. 2:8-9), but suffering?
Yet that is what Paul says. On reflection, it is easy to see why. The Gospel of Jesus Christ is that in God’s good purposes Jesus suffered on our behalf, bearing our guilt and shame and atoning for our sin. Surely it should be no surprise, then, that conduct that is worthy of such a Gospel includes suffering for Jesus. In fact, that theme is part of what makes this paragraph transitional. For on the one hand, it looks back to the example of the apostle Paul (1:12-26). He ends the paragraph by referring to his own “struggle” (1:30), of which his Philippian readers have just read—a “struggle” so severe he was not certain he would survive. And on the other hand, the chapter ahead is one of the most powerful New Testament descriptions of Jesus’ humiliation and death. We are to conduct ourselves in a manner worthy of that kind of good news.
MARCH 28
Exodus 39; John 18; Proverbs 15; Philippians 2
FEW PASSAGES HAVE AS MUCH THEOLOGY and ethics in them as Philippians 2.We can pick up on only a few of its wonderful themes:
(1) Scholars have translated 2:5-11 in all kinds of creative ways. In large measure the NIV has it right. Christ Jesus, we are told, “did not consider equality with God something to be grasped [or possibly “exploited”], but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness” (2:6-7). All that is quite wonderful, a glorious description of the incarnation that prepares the way for the cross. I might reword the translation in the first line of verse 6: “Who, being in very nature God.” At the level of raw literalism, that is a perfectly acceptable translation. But Greek uses participles far more frequently than does English, and Greek adverbial participles, such as the word being in this line, have various logical relations with their context—relations that must be determined by the context. Probably most English readers mentally paraphrase this passage as, “Who, although he was in very nature God . . .” Certainly that makes sense and may even be right. But there are good contextual reasons for thinking that the participle is causal: “Who, because he was in very nature God.” In other words, because he was in very nature God, not only did he not consider equality with God something to be exploited, but he made himself a nobody: it was divine to show that kind of self-emptying, that kind of grace.
(2) “Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus” (2:5), who did not regard his rights as something to be exploited, but who humbled himself and died a death of odious ignominy so that we might be saved—and was ultimately vindicated (2:6-11). The exhortation of 2:5 thus supports the string of exhortations in 2:1-4. Reflect on how this is so.
(3) The verses following the “Christ hymn” (as it is often called) of 2:6-11 emphasize perseverance. “Therefore” at the beginning of verse 12 establishes the connection. Christ made himself a nobody and died a shameful death but was finally and gloriously vindicated, and therefore we too should take the long view and “work out” our salvation “with fear and trembling” (2:12). Of course, there is all the more incentive when we recall that “it is God who works in [us] to will and to act according to his good purpose” (2:13). We reject utter passivity, “letting go and letting God”; rather, we work out our salvation. Yet at the same time we joyfully acknowledge that both our willing and our doing are evidence of God’s working in us. And he will vindicate us.
MARCH 29
Exodus 40; John 19; Proverbs 16; Philippians 3
IN PAUL’S LETTERS HE OFTEN, implicitly or explicitly, tells his readers not only to understand and follow what he teaches, but to imitate him. Nowhere is this theme stronger than in Philippians 3, reaching a climax in 3:17: “Join with others in following my example, brothers, and take note of those who live according to the pattern we gave you.” Not only does Paul instruct believers to imitate him; he has been building up a cadre of leaders who exemplify the pattern of life he has been teaching, so that they can serve as models for others to follow. Some reflections:
(1) Almost certainly one of the reasons why Paul provides so many details about Timothy and Epaphroditus (2:19-30) is so that they may serve as models to be admired and emulated. Paul says of Timothy, “I have no one else like him, who takes a genuine interest in your welfare. For everyone looks out for his own interests, not those of Jesus Christ” (2:20-21). He expects the more godly among his readers to react instinctively and resolve to become like Timothy. Paul is even more explicit with respect to Epaphroditus. After detailing the man’s Christian courage, Paul adds, “Welcome him in the Lord with great joy, and honor men like him” (2:29)—not only “him,” but “men like him,” for Paul teaches patterns of life that should be admired and imitated.
(2) Paul’s suggestion that the Philippians imitate Timothy and Epaphroditus, and his instructions that they follow his own example and the pattern of living Paul had regularly taught (3:17), is proffered in part as an antidote to the alternative models that surround us. The assumption is that we inevitably imitate someone. There is always an abundant supply of bad models. Paul warns against “those dogs” (3:2) who were trying to impose observance of Jewish covenantalism. Doubtless they appeared wonderfully pious. The apostle similarly warns against the “enemies of the cross of Christ” (3:18) who, judging by the context, are almost certainly professing Christians who do not really grasp what the Gospel is about and who do not really live with eternity’s values in view. They too must have had some plausibility, or Paul would not have warned against them. Christians must be intentional in choosing whom they should imitate, or else they may drift toward poor models.
(3) Paul’s strong exhortation that the Philippians follow his example is saved from self-righteousness and religious cant by his insistence that he himself has not arrived, but is still on a pilgrimage (3:7-16).
So follow someone who follows Christ; follow a pilgrim who insists that you live up to what you have already attained, and then press for more.
MARCH 30
Leviticus 1; John 20; Proverbs 17; Philippians 4
FOUR MORE KINDS OF proverbs appear in Proverbs 17:
(1) Several proverbs offer an evaluative comparison introduced by the word better. “Better a dry crust with peace and quiet / than a house full of feasting, with strife” (17:1). “Better to meet a bear robbed of her cubs / than a fool in his folly” (17:12). The first of these two provides a value judgment to be observed and cherished; the second makes an important assessment of the “fool,” with an implied warning to avoid such company. There are many of these “better” proverbs in other chapters—e.g., “Better to be lowly in spirit among the oppressed / than to share plunder with the proud” (16:19); “Better to live on a corner of the roof / than to share a house with a quarrelsome wife” (21:9).
(2) A few proverbs take the form of rhetorical questions. “Of what use is money in the hand of a fool, / since he has no desire to get wisdom?” (17:16). This one is quite wonderful. It suggests that using money in ways that do not make you “wise” is so unprofitable that you would be better off without money.
(3) Some proverbs seem quite simple, but include an unexpected element that prompts the reader to ponder what is being said. “A wicked man listens to evil lips; / a liar pays attention to a malicious tongue” (17:4). One might have expected “A wicked man speaks with evil lips; / a liar deploys his malicious tongue.” That would be true, but comparatively prosaic. The evil lips and the malicious tongue in 17:4 are doubtless wicked, but the writer does not pause to argue the point. Rather, he focuses on the character of those who listen to evil lips, on those who pay attention to the malicious tongue. Perhaps the worst punishment of liars is not that they are not believed, but that they do not believe truth but prefer lies—both their own and the lies of others. And what does this proverb say about a culture that loves juicy sleaze, or comforting half-truths, or squalid, vacuous violence? Who buys the porn and the cash register “newspapers”? Such organs cannot stay in business if there is no market. How could local church gossips keep in business if they did not find ready ears—wicked ears, according to this proverb?
(4) A surprising number of proverbs tell us explicitly what the Lord does. Often we are told what the Lord loves or detests, to help us form our own values; but sometimes it is something else, such as, “[T]he LORD tests the heart” (17:3); “Acquitting the guilty and condemning the innocent—the LORD detests them both” (17:15). For other examples, read 15:8, 9, 25, 26, 29; 16:4.
MARCH 31
Leviticus 2—3; John 21; Proverbs 18; Colossians 1
A NUMBER OF PROVERBS in this book bear on the matter of disputes. Some deal with the judicial level—e.g., “It is not good to be partial to the wicked or to deprive the innocent of justice” (18:5). Again, “The first to present his case seems right, till another comes forward and questions him” (18:17)—a proverb that has application in wider settings than the courtroom. This judicial element is scarcely surprising, since of course Solomon himself was the final court of appeal in his kingdom. But many of these proverbs about disputes have little to do with the judicial system (although even the most private of disputes may go to court—and it may well be that Solomon’s reflections even about private disputes were stimulated by some of the things he saw dragged into court). There are two such proverbs here: Proverbs 18:13, 18.
(1) “He who answers before listening—that is his folly and his shame” (18:13). This, of course, invites wide application. We think of those exasperating, aggressive conversationalists who rarely let you finish a sentence or a thought before they interject their own viewpoint. How much worse is the situation when neither side in a dispute really listens to the other side. In rare cases, of course, there is literally nothing to be said in favor of one particular side. But almost always there is at least something to be said for a contrary position, even if on balance it is not all that defensible. But how can you find out if you do not really listen? How can you hope to convince the other party of what you are saying if you cannot give that party the grace of courteous listening? In most disputes, tensions will improve if one party takes the initiative to lower the volume, slow the pace, cool the rhetoric, and humbly try to listen and discover exactly what the other side is saying.
(2) “Casting the lot settles disputes and keeps strong opponents apart” (18:18). “Casting the lot” might refer to the priestly function of appealing to the Urim and Thummim for guidance (e.g., Ex. 28:30). But I suspect not. Some disputes become so vicious or so complex that the simplest way of sorting them out is to flip a coin—provided, of course, that both parties will agree to abide by the outcome. Some disputes cannot and should not be resolved in this manner. But where both sides, deep down, acknowledge that their dispute is six of one and half a dozen of the other, this might be the simplest way forward.
Inescapably clear from all this is the Bible’s profound commitment to truth, to integrity in listening and speaking, and to peace as much as to justice.